【Synopsis】 : You had one job and three rules. And you broke every single one.
Pairing: MobBoss!San x PrivateDriver!Reader
[Warnings]: Swearing. Gun violence. Some angst. Mention of death. San's a bit bloody. Blood (obviously). Unprotected sex. Car sex. Squirting. Light-hearted banter. Hinting of sex work and abuse (doesn't go into detail). Speeding. Car chase. Fingering. Fucking while driving (don't do this). Pet names
Hi, I know I've been m.i.a for a couple of months. sadly my Tumblr was suspended cause of mass reporting. So I almost lost my account and it caused a lot of stress. but I'm back and I've gotten my account back. I will be trying to post on here more but honestly. I forget to post here. and Wattpad kind of hates me. but I will try harder to post. I'm sorry for any inconvenience. you all are so nice and I just want to be able to give you quality work ahhh. <3 <3
This fic is also a continuation of the little drabble from page 165 <3
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"Oh no, I want to hear it, darling. What else would you find enjoyable to ride?" He shot the last of his drink, his hand evidently palming his clothed hard-on.
"I think you already know the answer, sir."
"Hmm." was all he responded with.
-
That night you'd fuck yourself on your dildo with the idea of San palming himself while you drove. The way his pants were stuck in your brain, playing on repeat as he continued to pleasure himself while you drove him home. You couldn't have dropped him off sooner, cause you swore he was going to cum in his pants if he kept going.
'Until next time, bunny.'
His voice was so smooth. Deep. You know you were playing a dangerous game by becoming involved with a client much less a feared mob boss that would kill someone that looked at him the wrong way. But the way he looked at you through the mirror every time you drove him. He was always so happy to see you, chatting about anything to keep his mind off his work. You were an escape for him. Something that was a reminder he was supposed to be this angry man twenty-four-seven. No, he could, laugh, tease, flirt, with you and you'd either shut him down or egg him on. Both of which rial him up even more.
The idea of touching you, having you. Even if it was for one night, it was becoming increasingly more tempting. But alas, he knew you. You are professional, and you wouldn't disobey your company's rules.
Do not sleep with the clients.
But something deep in your soul was screaming at you that all of your morality was about to go out the window. You were sent to pick up a client on a south port right after they had finished some trade. Well, that was the plan, at least, but here you were sitting an hour later after the supposed pick-up. This is getting ridiculous. You thought, shifting in your seat, trying to keep your muscles awake. What is taking him so long?
